Avenging Love
by SilentChelsea
Summary: After Helena Harper was kidnapped and infected by surviving members of The Family, her fiancee and co-worker Ingrid Hunnigan attempts to rescue her. Unfortunately, the infection is too strong and claims Helena's life. In her guilt and grieving, Hunnigan vows to kill every member of The Family with her own hands using her tech genius and contacts around the world.
1. Chapter 1

Hunnigan was infuriated, beyond angry. She was seething as she sat in her studio apartment. The lights were off, the music was off, everything in the house was dark, save for her favorite computer. The program was quickly scanning through four different databases simultaneously. While the programs were doing the hard work, she was in her head. Animosity coursed through her veins.

Helena had been right there, in her arms and she had slipped away before she could do anything. Losing a charge was always hard on her but this time it was was the fact that she loved Helena—the fact that Helena had loved her, had given her so much of herself. Helena had become a part of Hunnigan and now that part was missing.

It was taken. Not just missing but cut away from her. Helena had trusted her to keep her safe and when the time had come, she had failed her. Vengeance was all that was on her mind. The program beeped rapidly several times then a window opened up. It had found one of them.

The Family.

The window was minimized as the program continued to search for the rest of them. A sudden lightening bolt of brightness erupted from her phone. In the heavy darkness of the quiet night, it had shaken her. She slowly picked it up and held it to her ear. She did not give her usual greeting to whomever was on the line.

"Ingrid, this is Daniels. I know you are supposed to be off call due to recent events but we nee—" She cut him off.

"No." Her voice was devoid of any emotion, any humanity. She ended the call before he could react to her. The phone rang again she wrapped her fingers around the phone and hurtled it across the dark house. She heard it strike a wall and several pieces fell quietly to the floor.

Another window popped up, another member of The Family had been found. She stood and walked through the house. In her bedroom, she found the outfit on the bed, it was left here on one of the countless times Helena had stayed over. She slipped her fingers under the cloth gently, as though she were lifting the air itself and pulled them close to her nose. She took a deep breath and imagined Helena wrapped around her. Hunnigan could almost feel Helena's strong hands rubbing her back, caressing her face, lifting her thighs.

Shrill beeps from the next room shattered the illusion and she set the clothes down carefully. The computer had brought up a warning. Someone had noticed her search for The Family. Someone had been tipped off and was trying to back-trace her. She hit a single key and the program neutralized instantly.

The back-trace program was not one she was familiar with but as it searched through her files, it left the code behind. The basis for the program was one she helped write. She set up a trap and allowed the program to walk right into it as she searched "Derek C. Simmons". The IP was one she knew, it was coming from one of the D.S.O's computers.

Hunnigan slammed a fist down on the desk then rushed back into her room. She pulled on a pair of black pants and a long sleeve, black shirt. Next she grabbed a black leather jacket she had gotten for Helena but never had had the chance to present her. She slipped on a pair of black heels and was out the door.

Her first destination was not the D.S.O basement where the IP address had originated, instead it was a weapons dealer who she knew from a mission in South Korea a few years ago. She knew that he was still dealing, though it was mostly to old military types and had not gone so far out of line to upset her. He lived a few hours away but she made the distance quickly. She pulled up in front of his house and got out of her car, not bothering to turn the engine off. She crossed his front lawn in long strides and pounded three times on his door, rang the doorbell twice and gave one good kick. It was a simple ritual but it kept him from blowing her head off her shoulders through the door.

From inside the house, she heard him fumbling around and muttering Korean. He opened the door, shotgun in hand.

"Miss Hunnigan—Now I told them that it was up to them what they did—"

"Save it, Kim. I am here to buy."

He glanced her up and down. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"It is three thirty-nine am and I need to purchase a few items from you." He gave her a look, trying to size her up. She pulled a wad of cash out of her pocket and waved it in front of his eyes. "This isn't a test." He stepped aside and motioned for her to come in.

"What can I get for you? Maybe a nice Beretta or a good bolt-action lever rifle?"

"No, I need body armor. Lightest of lightweight. Something to wear under my clothes and won't show up on scans but will stop a full-metal jacket from taking a bite out of me." His jaw dropped open and he raised a finger to cut in but he continued. "I also need a very small, again lightweight weapon. I don't want a gun, I want something a little more personal."

Kim raised an eyebrow. "How personal is personal, Miss Hunnigan?"

"Something to last, something to say something."

He gave her a smile. "How good are you with a knife?"

"Not great. I took a few classes over the years. Mostly throwing knives and—" He raised a hand to silence her.

Kim stepped to an entertainment center, a big wooden piece of furniture. He pulled open a cabinet and a panel on the side dropped open. He pulled out a chest piece and handed it to her. "Try it on." He tossed it to her and continued looking around.

She pulled the jacket off and slipped the chest piece on. It was a little big and one of the shoulder straps was clearly stitched back together, but it was what she wanted. She latched it and turned to him. He had a gun held at her. He fired one round, a silencer muffled the barrel. Her breath hitched in her throat as an explosion struck over her right breast. Her hands went to the area and pulled back, no blood. Hunnigan slipped a hand under the armor and found the bullet had not passed through. It had shattered on impact and lay in pieces around her feet.

"You see, it is good." He laid the gun down and pulled out a thigh holster.

"You could've warned me." She let out a heavy sigh.

"And here is your weapon." The thing he held out was the thigh holster, in it was not a gun or even a set of knives. She pulled one out and found it was a long, needle-like object. Ten of them in a row. Hunnigan raised a finger to the point and he stopped her hand. "I wouldn't do that. It is poisoned." He overturned the holster over top a table top. A small, green pill fell out. He pulled a latex glove out of a drawer off to his left and picked up the pill, gently. "It is very fragile. Each holder has one at the bottom. You are to press the needle down into the holster then pull it from the sheath and throw it before the poison dried. It is a nerve-toxin. It was paralyze the limb it strikes."

"And if it is to hit the torso?"

"If it is too close to the heart, it will kill. The poison is _Erinyes_."

"Like the Greek furies?"

"Yes, it will paralyze a person for twenty-four hours in small doses. If you hit someone with more than three needles, they will die in that time. They will not live past a day."

"How many do you have?"

"Thirty needles and one-hundred tablets of the toxin."

"I will take them all." He started to say something when she dropped one-hundred, fifty-thousand on the table top. "The inside of the holster is lined so it will not spill out or hit you. To get out a pill after it has been punctured, you have to soak it in vinegar. It will dilute it enough to handle. Keep the tablets in your fridge until you need them. They will last longer that way."

"Got it." She nodded and watched him carefully replace the pill in the holster than replace the needle after it.

"The metal of the needles is safe to handle after being boiled. You should boil them after each use. The toxin can build up on it. Wear gloves when using them in the field, or you and your target will just lay around looking at each other, waiting for the toxin to wear off." He laughed as he began to count the money.

Hunnigan pulled her jacket over the body armor and buttoned it up. The black of the jacket helped hide the edges of the chest piece. She then wrapped the holster around her thigh and secured it with a belt that Kim was kind enough to throw in for free. She thanked him and exited the house. Hurrying across the lawn, she jumped into her car and headed to the D.S.O headquarters.


	2. Chapter 2

Hunnigan had quickly brought up the blackout program. It was something that she had been working on on rainy days for the past few years. More or less, it was a compact EMP device. She could set it up much like a WiFi signal, but instead of giving out free internet connections to all devices within thirty feet, it would knock out electronic devices. She was basically a rolling blackout.

The D.S.O backdoor was easy to get through. She parked her car five blocks from the building and took the round about way. Hunnigan had to place her back against the gate of the outer courtyard. She knew every piece of security the place had, she engaged the blackout program and it just took a little muscle to get the gate to swing open. Inside the courtyard, she ran at full speed. The bulk of the body armor, no matter how lightweight, took a toll on her. Constricted her movement.

Having to stop a few times to allow footpatrols pass by her, she was able to catch her breath before pressing on. There was a large hedge that she could get through. She pulled the collar of the jacket over her head and threw herself into the hedge. On the other side, was a chain-link fence. It was wired at the top, electric. She pulled out a pair of pliers, thick rubber installation and began to cut here and there until she was sure she could get through the opening. She was careful not to let her jacket get caught on the edges, bending them back and out of the way.

She rushed around the corner and found the cleaning staff entrance. The program on her phone disarmed the security panel next to the door and it slid open soundlessly. Inside, it was dark in the main hallway, though she knew there were still people working on the higher floors. Her colleagues. The trace program had come from one of the lower floors, below ground level. Hunnigan rushed to the elevator and pulled her phone out of her pocket, she lowered the blackout program to its lowest setting. A scanner was at the top of a panel of buttons. She initiated the black and white code and the scanner confirmed the code was to Suit 9. Suit 9 was the personal floor of Adrian Waters, an old friend of Derek C. Simmons. They had worked together in the Secret Service back in the early eighties.

The elevator descended in total quiet. Her heartbeat bounced off the walls as the numbered lights ticked. The floor above Suit 9, she raised the blackout program to its largest range and the elevator shorted out and the emergency lights kicked on. She has to get into the corner and push herself up using the handrails around the box to get tot he roof and push open the panel. She left it open and began crawling down the emergency ladder to the lower floor. The doors below slide open effortlessly.

Nothing moved inside but she could hear the far off sounds of jazz music wafting through the floor. Hunnigan kept herself tight to the walls and moved around until she saw light spilling out of once of the main offices. Inside, Waters was working on her computer. She moved closer and she heard the music begin to skip and struggle as the computer lost power. The lights in the room stayed on, though the dimmed as she circled around the room to get a feel of where he was.

"Great, a power surge." Waters grumbled. She heard his chair squeak as he pushed it back from the desk and get up. He walked over to the internal phone and lifted the receiver. He clicked a few buttons and that was when she called out to him.

"Put the phone down, Waters." Try as she might, her voice did not come off as hard as she had wanted it.

"Who the hell is here?" He called out then seemed to address whoever was on the phone. "No, not you. There is someone in my su—" She dipped around the corner and threw one of the needles at the phone. The metal bit through the plastic body of the receiver. He looked down and then towards her. Hunnigan had already shoved the second needle through the _Erinyes_, pulled it and sent it towards his shoulder. It pierced his shirt and red began to spiral slowly out from the wound. "What the hell?" He yanked the needle from his shoulder and threw it to the ground.

Waters dashed to his desk and pulled a silver Glock and aimed it at her. She dove back through the doorway and fell to the ground just before bullets ripped through the air above her head. She scrambled on her hands and knees to get away from the doorway as she could hear him rushing after her.

Hunnigan stood and ducked into the open doorway of a meeting room. He followed her.

"Who is here? Who are you?" He demanded.

"I am a ghost." She lowered her voice, it was on the cuspid of comical but she was trying.

"You are going to be dead in a few moments if you don't tell me who sent you…what did you do to me."

Hunnigan had been crawling carefully between the legs of chairs under the long meeting table but now she looked out from under the table, around a chair and saw that his left arm, where the needle had hit, was hanging limp at his side. She crawled along under the table and grabbed the next needle. She pierced the poison and held it out as he walked by. She struck quickly and drove the needle through his pant leg and caught him in the calf.

He yelped in pain and fired at the ground. A bullet ricochet off the ground and licked at her cheek as it embedded itself on the underside of the table. She slapped a hand on her cheek and it came back red. Waters stumbled in pain and fell to the ground. The poison was coursing through his veins and he struggled less and less as she watched him from under the table.

She crawled away and ran back to his office. On his desk was a roll of transparent tape. She pulled several strips off the roll and covered the cut on her cheek, trapping her blood behind a thin veil of cellophane. She dug around and found a lighter and a bottle of pen ink, then she retrieved both her needles.

Gathering her courage and suppressing her want to be sick, she returned to the meeting room. Waters was right were she had left him. He began grunting loudly as she walked past him. The meeting table was heavy but with some finesse she got it to tip over. On the underside, the bullet still lay. Hunnigan used the needles to work the bullet out of the wood. She pocketed it then doused the underside of the table in the ink and set the lighter to it. The flames moved quickly, burning away her blood that had been soaked into the wood.

She turned to the man. She pressed her foot to his upper arm and pushed him over. Hunnigan crouched down and looked him in the eye.

"You are a member of The Family, correct?" He moved his head back and forth slowly. She jammed a needle into the open wound in his shoulder. He groaned. "You are a member of The Family, correct?" She repeated. He shook his head again. She stood and took the needle to the wall. In the wall, she carved the serpent emblem of The Family and pointed at it. "Your family crest, correct?"

He was quiet. She held her breath as she struck out, sending her foot into his side. He didn't recoil in pain, but grunted loudly. She did it again, fighting not to show compassion.

"You are a member of The Family, are you not?" She punctuated the question with a third kick. Something cracked. She fought a wave of nausea. "Are you not?" This time he nodded, as best as he could. "How many of you are there?" He didn't move but tried to mumble words.

"You will close your eyes when I reach the correct number." She waited for him to nod. "One…Two… Three… Four… Five…" It continued on until she got to the point of skipping in fives. "Forty-Five… Fifty…. Fifty-Five…" He closed his eyes for a few moments then opened them.  
"About fifty-five?" He closed his eyes and nodded.

"How do I find them?" He stared at her, unmoving. "Fine, I will find them on my own, just like I found you. They will pay just like you, Waters."

Hunnigan noted the fire beginning to spread past the table and onto chairs around the area. The smoke alarms would be going off soon and whoever Waters had talked to on the phone would be trying to get down here. Only her hold on the elevator was keeping them out. She leaned over and held the tip of the needle to his throat.

"You killed the woman I love. Your Family will mourn you only until I kill every last one of them." Hunnigan stood and took up the gun that had been just beside his hand the entire time. She pointed it down at his face then turned her own face away from him, and pulled the trigger. It was an ear-piercing bang then and wet smack of matter spraying over the floor.

She could not allow herself to look at him. Running to the elevator, she climbed up the emergency ladder as far as her arms could carry her. She exited on the fifth floor and took the stairs back down to the cleaning staff entrance and rushed through the courtyard.

Once she was back in her car, Hunnigan fell apart. She sobbed hysterically as she wiped at the blood on her hands and hid the gun in her glove compartment. She cradled her head in her hands for almost half an hour before sirens wailed past her towards the D.S.O. She collected herself and drove home. Taking her shoes off outside her house, she walked into her bathroom and got into a hot shower, fully clothed. She lay under the water until she passed out from exhaustion.


	3. Chapter 3

Time passed her over as she lay under the water, her clothes made a strange noise under the constant pelting of the shower. The cold water was what woke her, a sever shudder ran through her entire body. Hunnigan opened her eyes and looked around the small space between the white, tile walls and the drawn white, plastic curtain. She was doubled in on herself, in a fetal position. Her joints and sides burned in pain as she pulled herself upright and onto her feet. Peeling her clothes off, she hung them over the shower rod, dropping a towel on the ground to soak up what drops of water missed the edge of the tub.

She towel dried off and walked through her apartment. It was day now, the rays of golden light streaked across the house. Her skin glittered as she passed through the shafts of light towards the computer. Another member of The Family had been found. He was not far, he also continued to work at the D.S.O.

_So many cockroaches still scurrying around._ He and his older, half-brother both worked in the same department: Public Relations. They were both scheduled to be at meetings this afternoon. She checked the time, the meeting was from 2:30pm to 5pm. A cold lighting bolt struck inside her. It was almost five already.

Hunnigan ran to the back of the house, slipping on a black skirt, a long sleeve black shirt and a beige dress coat. Her hair was done up in a high bun and she found a pair of heels that matched the coat. On her way out of the room, her eye caught the sight of the cream halter top and the burgundy pants on the bed. Her mind, just for a split second had betrayed her— had hypnotized her. For just a moment out of the corner of her eye, she was sure that she had seen Helena laying on the bed, leaning back, propped up on her elbows, watching Hunnigan as she dressed. The wicked trick of the mind stung at her eyes. She grasped the thigh holster and checked to make sure there was full tablets in each one then she slipped some tinted glasses on.

She rushed from the house and got into her car. Her PDA sat there charging. The engine turned over in the car and she threw it into reverse then tore off towards the D.S.O headquarters. She took many residence streets and back alleys to avoid the heavy traffic.

Once again, she parked her car some ways off. She sped through the security checks, no one even bothered to have her walk through the metal scanners or check her bags. Every guard in the place had been hired by her and knew that she would never bring a concealed weapon. Hunnigan forced a smile on her lips.

"Hello Ms. Hunnigan, how are you holding up?" Jeff, the current guard working the main security station asked her.

"I'm holding." Her heel tapped as she was forced into small talk while waiting for him to open the side door to allow her to bypass the metal detector.

"That is good. None of us expected you to stay away from work long… even with everything that happened." He lowered his voice as he pressed a button. The door alarm sounded as the door swung open for her.

"I am just here to pick a few things." She said coldly and rushed through the door. In the hallway she made her way to the stairs. She didn't want to be on the cameras of the elevator on her way to meeting room 21B. She stepped into the stairwell and slipped her heels off. Her hand ducked into her pocket and she readied the black out program.

Hunnigan raced up the twenty flights of stairs, pausing to catch her breath and pull back a few loose strands of hair from her the bun high atop her head. She straightened out her jacket and slipped her shoes back on her feet. She flipped the black out program on and stepped into the hall. Instantly, the red lights on the security cameras dulled and went out.

Through the hallway, she could hear people talking, it seemed to be Mandarin. She walked into the room and took a seat at the back, out of the sight of many of the people in the room, at most they got a profile view of a woman in sunglasses slip into the side room. She could've been any one of their wives for all they would guess.

The meeting continued for another thirty minutes. She grew restless and pulled off the jacket in the small, antechamber room she was now hiding in. The level of noise from the other room climaxed greatly then died down as people left. She called out to the two she had come for.

"Desmond Miles and Eric Leavenworth."

The two men exchanged glances and excused themselves from the rest of the group. One man was cursing in Mandarin because his phone could not get a signal. She smiled and stepped out from the room.

"And you are?" Miles asked, stepping forward. He was the younger of the two, but held more power.

"A representative." Hunnigan stated. "I'd like a moment of your time— both of you."

The two men had no choice but to follow her back into the slightly more secluded antechamber. She took long strides towards a window, the evening light poured in. It was a strategic placement.

"A representative of whom, may I ask?" Miles questioned, Leavenworth following behind.

"Someone who found out your secret—someone who exposed you." They didn't seem interested. She placed her hand on the first needle and punctured the tablet, then sent the needle towards Miles' neck. It struck the knot in his tie. The sun was in his eyes and he nor his brother were able to retaliate before she could pull the second needle and send it into his chest.

Leavenworth pulled a gun from his pocket and opened fire on her. She ducked under in the dark space between two windows. She imagined he would try to adjust his eyesight to see her but instead he just blindly fired on her. A bullet caught her left calf. She cried out in pain and took another needle from the holster.

In a less-than-graceful tumble, she rolled towards a cabinet that held a coffee maker. She pressed herself against the wall and placed her free hand on her wounded calve as she leaned over the edge of the cabinet and sent the second needle into the back of Leavenworth, who had been knelt over trying to attend his younger brother as the toxin surged through his system.

Hunnigan held her position until she heard the second man drop to the floor. In that time, she examined her wound. It was not a through-and-through, so the bullet was still in her. There was some blood splatter on the floor near the window. She looked on the cabinet and found just what she could use: Non-dairy, powdered creamer. Hunnigan scoffed and took it over to the area, sprinkling it about generously. She rushed back over to the men and began looking through their pockets. They moaned and groaned helplessly as the toxin coursed through their veins. She pulled the jacket off for a moment and used a clean needle to rip one of the sleeves off and tie it around her calve.

Miles had just what she was looking for, a small lighter. She stuck it between her lips then pulled a pack of the tablets from the back of the holster. The first needle she had thrown had not made it through the tie. She pulled it out and walked to the first wall, were both men could easily see her. She carved the symbol of The Family, the serpents intertwined.  
Their pupils widened in recognition. She pulled the lighter from her mouth, lit it and tossed it at the creamer powder. It exploded violently, the flames spread quickly.

"Yes, I know you are both members of The Family. Murders that stole the love of my life from me." She stabbed the needle into the wall before turning back to them. "You killed my love, destroyed her. Now you will die." She crossed the room, her leg aching from the bullet wound. She pulled tablets from the container and stuffed it between each other their lips. Three a piece. They both began to shake and vomit loosely as she rushed from the room. She threw a chair on the fire to help it spread.

Outside, she could hear a fire alarm begin to scream. She rushed to the stair well and found people beginning to fill it, the mass of workers marching quickly and orderly down to the ground floor and out the front doors.

"Not again." One man complained. "I heard there was a fire last night when that guy was killed in his office."

"Wonder if someone else has been offed?" His friend asked. She pushed past them and crossed the open courtyard, switching off the black out program as she stepped off the property. Her car was were she left it. She climbed into the car and examined the wrapping on her leg. No blood seemed to have seeped out.

Her leg pulsed painfully the entire drive home. Once she got there, she once again climbed into her bathtub and soaked herself through her clothes. Falling asleep, this time she was crying from the pain in her leg, not the deaths of now three men on her conscious.


	4. Chapter 4

A series of heavy thuds woke Hunnigan from her cold sleep. She had been so tired from her second outing, that even though the water had gone freezing hours before, she hadn't awoken. Standing quickly and peeling off the soaked clothes, she ripped down the clothes that had been hanging over the shower rod, tossed them into the sink, and hung the ones she was wearing. Stripped nude, she looked around for her bathrobe. It was hung on a hook behind the door, a cream, silk robe with golden stitching. Her fingers worked to tie the belt and tug the material down to her knees as she rushed to the front door.

_I was spotted, the program must've failed somewhere. Some camera caught enough of my face—or someone found some of my blood on the floor._ Her mind raced as she pulled back the locks on the door. _Maybe someone in the crowd saw me limping, saw the wound and reported it_.

Hunnigan pulled open the door and sighed inwardly as she instantly recognized the man standing there on her porch. He towered over it by almost a head and a half, though he was slumped to one side, indicating he had been waiting there for awhile.

"Caught you at a bad time, obviously." His eyes looked her up and down, water from her hair soaking the shoulders of her robe.

"Leon—uh yeah. I was in the shower. I didn't hear the door." He nodded quietly, leaving a long pause of silence between them. Her mind scrambled for a polite way to tell him to get lost. "Sorry, I'm just not feeling the greatest."

"I wasn't expecting you too." He took advantage of her position half behind the door and slipped past her into the house easily. She let out a short breath as she watched him walk to the center of her livingroom and turn around.

"I'm not really in the mood for guests, Leon." The door was still open beside her.

"Good thing I'm not a guest then huh?"

Hunnigan took the hint and closed the door. She let go of the door and nearly collapsed to the floor. He saw her lose her balance before she even realized it and was holding her up, his arms around her waist. She looked down to see her left foot angled strangely, he noticed as well.

"What happened?" His brow was cocked in confusion, but his look quickly turned to shock as rivulets of blood began to stream down the back of her leg. "Your leg…?" He let go one hand from her waist and reached to open the door. "I'm taking you to the hospital—"

"No." She slapped a hand against the back of the door, keeping him from opening it. "I'm fine."

"Tell that to your carpet." Blood was pooling under her foot.

"Just help me into the kitchen, so I can clean it up."

Leon scooped an arm under her, laying it behind the bend of her knees, the other went around her back as her carried her to the island counter between her kitchen and diningroom. He set her on the counter then immediately reached for her leg. He tried to turn it around but she tensed under his grasp.

"Hunnigan…" He shot a look up at her. He tugged at her ankle, just enough pressure to annoy her, not injure. She let out a sigh and relaxed her leg, angling her hips to the right to allow her leg to be bent more so that he would be able to examine it more carefully. He mumbled under his breath as he got a better look at it. "I don't care what the beauty magazines say, Hunnigan, bullets don't make for a good way to shave your legs.

"If you are going to make a big joke out of this, then just get out and I'll handle it." She pulled at her leg but his grip on her ankle and upper calve tightened, near bruising in his hold on her.

"Who is joking?" A grim look flushed across his face. "How did you get a bullet wound in the back of your leg, Hunnigan?"

"I was out walking and a stray bullet hit me." She answered, not looking at him but instead at the wound. The skin was inflamed, but because of the overnight soak in cold water, the flesh around the wound had stayed cold, keeping her from bleeding out.

"Where were you walking that has a lot of stray bullets?"

"The other side of town."

"And you decided to just put it on ice instead of going to the hospital because you didn't want to inconvenience any doctor on the D.S.O's payroll?" He glared at her. "I'm not buying it. How about the truth?"

The muscles in her jaw flexed as she grounded her teeth. She could hear him moving around and heard a slight beep as he unlocked the screen on his phone. Hunnigan turned around and snatched at the device but he held it well outside her reach.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling an ambulance."

"No, you can't."

"And why not?"

"Because the bullet will be traced back to the gun that fired it."

"Yeah, that is generally the idea."

"And that gun will be traced back to Eric Leavenworth."

"Eric Leavenworth?" His eyes shifted slightly as he recalled the name. "Miles and Leavenworth, the heads of the PR department for the D.S.O?" She nodded, only slightly.

"Why did Eric Leavenworth shoot you in the leg?" When she remained silent, he began dialing the hospital. She swiped an arm at him. "Why did he shoot you? This wound is in the back of your leg, you were obviously running away, why did he shoot you Hunnigan?"

"Because I poisoned Desmond Miles!" She shouted.

A heavy stillness fell over them as then bore through each other. He looked hurt, she hurried to explain as he let go of her leg.

"Desmond Miles and Eric Leavenworth were members of The Family."

"What?"

"I have been running tracing programs for the past week and I finally have been getting results—private bank accounts linked both Miles and Leavenworth back to Simmons."

"Oh no…" He let out a quiet sigh.

"I have found them as well as Adrian Waters…"

"Hunnigan, no…"

"…I went to him and found out that there is only about fifty-five members in The Family so if I can find them—

"Stop…"

"…I can get the ones that worked directly with Simmons then I will bring in the other for—"

"Stop." He raised his voice, louder than hers but he was not screaming at her. "That is not going to bring her back."

A sharp pain pierced her throat. She swallowed hard, grinding her teeth together roughly to keep her lower lip from shaking. Her brows furrowed as a heat built in her sinuses. The world melted around Leon's face as tears began to form.

"Don't you think I know that!?" Her voice was shrill with pain, but not a scream. She couldn't scream even though she wanted to. "They took her away from me and they have to pay for that."

"Yes they do, but you putting yourself on the line is not going to result in anything but you losing your life."

"I don't care if I die—"

"And if they stop you? Do you want to spend the rest of your life in a prison cell?" He tone was stern. "What if they still have some form of the virus and they infect you? Then you will die just like she did. Do you think_ that_ is worth it?"

"Yes."

A stalemate fell between them before he grabbed her leg and turned it over again.

"Lay down on your stomach so that I can look at this better." She did so silently, sliding up along the counter so that her leg was propped up on the surface. Leon cleared his throat a bit then walked to around in front of her. "Towels and first aid kit?"

"Cabinet just over there and under the bathroom skin." She pointed him in the direction. He came back just a few minutes later and got to work.

First, he placed a pile of towels under her leg, both to soak up the blood and to steady it as he would have to work. Next, he draped a towel over her thighs, covering her up where her robe had failed to do so. She shook her head slightly at the idea of Leon seeing up her robe but at the moment, it didn't seem nearly as important as it normally would have been. He set the kit down on the surface and popped it open. He pulled out the bottle of alcohol, opened it and dumped it on the wound.

The chemical hissed furiously, as did Hunnigan, nearly leaping off the table. Only his hold on her knee kept her where she laid. She whined loudly and buried her face into her folded arms. He pulled out some long tweezers and began to press them into the wound.

Pain burned brightly and soon she was wiggling too much for him to hold on.

"You have to hold still."

"It hurts!" She let out a hiss as she sucked in air through her teeth.

"Yeah well if bullets felt good, more people would join the military." She shook her head and covered her face with her hands. The cold metal moving around under the skin was strange, her muscles jumped and twitched. Leon grumbled as he tried to hold her leg still with one hand and work the tweezers with the other.

"Ahhh…" She groaned loudly as the end of the tweezers brushed the bullet. "Shit!" Her leg jumped from the pain.

"I think I found it."

"Jesus Christ Leon, just pull it out."

He let out a chuckle. "I will just after I get this bullet out from your leg."

Hunnigan let out a short cry then slapped a hand over her mouth as the bullet moved around as he manipulated a better hold on it. He wiggled it back and forth then began to pull it out, though to her it felt as though he were driving it in farther.

"Oh… Ffffffuck…" He gave it a hard tug and she heard a wet, fleshy noise, then the sound of metal clanking in the kitchen sink.

"Well, that is done, now to sew it up." He grabbed a large cup from the cabinet beside the sink and filled it with cold water. He poured it slowly over the wound.

"Great…" She said, breathlessly as her hands drummed the counter-top in pain. "I bought the basic first aid kit that doesn't come with stitches."

Leon dabbed at the area with a clean towel then poured a small bottle of Iodine on the area. "I'll get creative." He wondered off and returned with a large sewing needle and a container of unwaxed floss. He got a pot from under the stove and filled it with water. In the pot, he dropped the floss and needle.

As the water boiled, he sat next to her on a barstool. She grabbed his arm and held her hand in both of her hands, pressing his cool fingers to her feverish forehead.

"What are you doing, Hunnigan? This isn't you." His voice was just above a whisper. She lulled her head to the side, to look at him.

"No, it isn't but this isn't for me."

"Then who—" She cut him off.

"It is for her… both of them." She gave a sniff, trying to stop the tears that had already begun to fall. The pain of the unofficial surgery on top the ache in her heart had made the tears unstoppable.

"If you have the evidence, why don't you just turn it over?"

"To who, Leon? The Family is everywhere. Their power is everywhere. They only caught ten members so far. I have to do this myself."

"You can't be serious. You are going to get yourself killed."

"I know, but if I go down before I am done, I've already set up a backup plan."

"Backup plan?" He puzzled. "What kind of backup plan?"

"Don't worry about it."

He stood and went over to the pot. He used tongs to pull the items out of the hot water then ran cold water over them. He threaded the needle and dipped them in a bowl of the alcohol from earlier.

"Brace yourself."


	5. Chapter 5

Hunnigan took in a sharp breath and waited for the first prick of the needle. What she got was the feeling close to that of someone grabbing a handful of her skin and yanking it as hard as they could. She nearly sent her unhindered foot into Leon's face because of the pain. Her hands were wrapped around the edge of the counter, her knuckles flashing white from the hold.

Her head began to feel as though it were floating away.

"Breathe, Hunnigan. Before you pass out." Leon instructed her. She heeded his warning and let out the air she had been holding. Her head instantly began to pulse painfully. She groaned, whined and rocked her shoulders side-to-side, trying anything to forget the pain. "Stop wiggling."

"I can't help it!" She shouted at him, slapping her palm down on the countertop.

"Well, you did this to yourself."

"Oh shut up— OW!" This time she did hit him with her foot. It was more of a nudge than anything, he was too far out of her reach for her to deliver the blow she wanted.

"That is smart, kick the surgeon while he is operator on your leg—free of charge no less."

She let out a whine as he pulled on the two ends of the thread, her skin coming together in the middle. He quickly did a few knots in that stitch before moving on. Hunnigan noticed her fingers were growing numb and when she let go of the countertop, her hands were shaking violently.

"Great, I think I am going into shock." She muttered to herself.

"Don't." He grumbled as he rushed to finish off the second stitch. "Try to breathe normally. Talk to me."

"About what?!"

"Anything— work, family, whatever. About that back up plan of yours." She groaned as she felt her chest tightening. Her fingers went to the collar of her robe and she began trying to pull it off. "Hey, Hunnigan. Talk to me. Leave your shirt alone and talk."

"The plan is just a precaution."

"Uh huh. In case what happens?" He goaded her on.

"In case I fail. In case one of these assholes kill me before I can kill them. I have hired various people from all over the world."

"Mercenaries?"

"Yeah. Some are men and women I've worked with in the field before and have agreed to help me out, others are mercs that I've heard about in my research for the government."

"Hunnigan, these are bad people." He stopped for a moment and snipped the thread of a fourth stitch and began work on the next one. "How much are you paying them?"

"Everything. If I don't check in to my bank accounts every forty-eight hours, they will get a message, alerting them of my failure to respond. In that case, they will each get a unique PIN. Each PIN will be used to unlock half of their bounty along with the orders. Each one will get a set of targe—Shit!" She slammed her fist down as the last bit of her wound was closed off.

"Uh huh…?" Leon cut the thread and began dabbing the area in fresh alcohol.

"When my tracking program is sure that they are dead, they will be crossed of the list and the appropriate bounty will be delivered to the merc that was assigned that specific target."

"And what if they just walk away with the money? Or what if your targets offer more?" He dumped the supplies into the kitchen sink and wrapped her leg up in a clean towel.

"I won't really be around to know, will I?" She began to sit up and nearly fell off the counter. Leon grabbed her by the shoulders and picked her up again, this time carrying her to couch in the livingroom. He plopped her down carefully and took a seat in a near by chair, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

For a long time, he just looked at her. She wasn't completely sure of his expression. He was now slightly fuzzy and for the first time she realized her glasses were missing from her face. Her eyes began to search the room, but she couldn't spot them.

"Can you go look in the bathroom for my glasses?"

"Yeah, in a minute."

"I'd kind of like to see you." Her tone was flat, irritated.

"That is why field agents usually need perfect vision, or have corrective surgery to obtain perfect vision."

Hunnigan let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back on a pile of pillows at the end of the couch and laying a hand over her face. She rubbed her fingers over her closed eyelids as he continued.

"You are not meant to be in the field, Hunnigan. You are going to get yourself killed."

"I'm kind of aware of that."

"Are you? Christ, Hunnigan, you had a bullet in your calve. You also have what looks uncannily like a bullet graze on your cheek." Her fingers moved from her eyes to her cheek. It had scabbed over. It was about three fingertips long, a fingertip wide. It followed the curve of her cheekbone, towards her left ear.

"He wasn't shooting at me, the gun just went off."

"One stupid, close-call if you ask me." He noted sternly. "Hunnigan, you have to stop this. You are worth too much to too many agents. What about all your other charges? How are they going to make it through this job without you?"

"They will get assigned to someone else."

"And what about me?" His tone had dropped, pain crept in his voice. She sat up a little, trying her best to make eye contact with him.

"You were a noted agent before you were assigned to me. You rarely even need me anymore."

"I wasn't just talking about in the field." He stood up and retreated into her bathroom. He wiped them off with a towel as he returned before handing them to her.

"Thank you." She slipped them on and the world came into focus. He took his seat again, this time leaning back in the chair a bit, though his body language was no more relaxed than it had been previously.

"Hun—Ingrid." She looked up at him at hearing her first name. He rarely every used it, perhaps four or five times in the fifteen years they had known each other. "Please, I am asking you as your friend, you have to let someone else handle them." She began to shake her head back and forth. "Yes. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

"I can't let them get away with this Leon. They took her from me. They stole her—" Her voice caught in her throat and tears burst from her. A choked cry escaped her. "They stole her from me! They kill Helena!" Her voice was a horse scream. Tears fell heavily over her cheeks, her slapped a hand against her chest. "I saw her. You weren't there! You didn't see what happened—what they did to her! They turned her into a monster! I tried to do EVERYTHING! The doctors cut away at her until she was almost NOTHING, LEON! _NOTHING_! She died holding me, I felt her stop_ breathing_! I heard her heart_ STOP_!" Hunnigan sat up and wrapped her arms around herself. She let out long wails as she rocked back and forth. Leon got up from the chair and knelt beside her, wrapping his arms around her. He rocked her, let her cry into his chest for what felt to her like hours. Until she couldn't scream anymore. Until she couldn't cry anymore. Until she was just producing heavy breathing, punctuated by silent, little sobs.

"I saw her. She kept apologizing to me like it was her fault, as if she had let me down." He pulled away from her, planting himself on the edge of her coffee table. He kept a single hand on her back, his palm making small circles. Comforting her int he only way he could while she stared at her hands. "She kept telling me she was sorry that we were never going to have our wedding. That her biggest regret was not getting to see me walk down the isle, not getting to put the ring on my finger."

Hunnigan rang her right index finger tip around the area where a wedding ring should have been. Her engagement ring was in her bedroom, sitting on the nightstand next to Helena's side of the bed, where Helena's outfit still lay.

"I don't know how to be here without her, Leon." Her voice was a shattered whisper.

"You don't need to know everything, genius." He gave her a weary smile. "You can be lost for a little while. It is ok." She sniffled a little, a yawn escaped her lips. "Come on, let's get you to bed. You need sleep to heal that wound."

Leon slipped an arm under her shoulders, lifting one of her arms over his shoulders and aided her to the bedroom. She hopped along on her good leg, then fell into the bed. Leon slipped a hand under the pile of the clothes.

"Leave them. I can't fall asleep without them on the bed." She said, rolling over and burying her face into the shirt.

"Alright." He nodded and righted himself. He pulled a blanket from the foot of the bed and laid it over her. "Get some sleep, Ingrid. I'll check on you tomorrow."

"Thank you, Leon." She called after him. He gave a wave over his shoulder and closed the door behind him. She heard the front door close not long after and she fell into a deep sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Six o'clock arrived and Hunnigan rolled over to see the sun setting, through the blinds on her window. She found her throat was sore, she decided to get up and get herself a cup of tea and honey, anything to soothe the raw pain—then her left foot made contact with the ground and she audibly yelped. Impressed with her own stupidity, she used her nightstand to push her up, then she pushed off the nightstand and launched herself at the wall. She slid along the wall, down her hallway, then she reached for the couch. Some part of her expected to see Leon standing guard, but the house was horribly empty.

Finally in the kitchen, she found that Leon had cleaned up the kitchen. She put the kettle on the stove and began digging around in the cabinets for a mug and teabag. She found a single box of orange tea as the kettle screamed, then the jar of honey in the fridge. A dollop of honey went into the cup, next the hot water and finally the bag. She slid if over to the counter top that had played operation table earlier that morning. She reached around the edge and pulled the bar stool to her. Sitting down, she sipped at the tea. The hot liquid soothed a shaking in her that she hadn't even noticed. She ran a hand through her hair, the rested her head on it, when her eyes caught sight of her monitor. It was turned off. She had set it up to stay on. Her eyes went down to the tower—or rather where the tower usually was. Hunnigan's jaw dropped a bit.

Struggling to get to her computer desk, she slipped and fell. Landing flat on her stomach, she crawled the rest of the way to the computer. The wires were still there as was the keyboard, mouse, everything was there but the tower and a backup portable harddrive. Her nails dug into the carpet as she turned and crawled to the coffee table where her phone and laptop were, finding that she moved much quicker and with less pain on her hands and knees.

She sat against the couch and pulled her phone over to her and reached for her laptop. The moment she began pulling it, she could feel that it felt lighter. Hunnigan flopped it over and found both the battery and internal memory cards missing.

"Leon!"

Her finger swiped over the screen, unlocking it and she saw that there was already a voice message waiting for her. She ignored it and dial Kennedy immediately. The phone rang three times and just as the fourth rang began, he picked up.

"Where are they?"

"Good morning to you too, Hunnigan. How are you feeling?"

"Leon, I am not in the mood, where are they?"

"Well it would help if I knew what you were talking about."

"Dammit Leon, where is my tower, my laptop battery and my memory card—also my harddrive. I have irreplaceable files on there."

"I promise I didn't hurt your toys, I am just keeping them for now. Think of it like an insurance policy. I keep your tech which keeps you alive longer."

"Bring them back here in the next hour or I swear I'll—"

"Oh stop threatening me." He played her off, talking over her. "You will get them back once I have my guy look at it and turn over the information so that we can catch these guys the right way."

"Leon, don't you dare get someone else involved in this—this is my project. I have been working for months on this. You can't! Leon, I don't even know who we can and cannot trust here."

"We can trust this guy."

"You may think that but I won't risk it."

"Hunnigan just leave it to—" She hung up on him. She fumed as she got back to her hands and knees and crawled quickly over to her work bag. He had taken the extra battery from there as well.

"Damn you, Leon." She slapped the wall with her hand then headed back to the bedroom. Inside, there was a bunch of old tech in the top of her closet.

Hunnigan struggled to her feet and began pulling down boxes. The first box held nothing but shoes. The second and third boxes held paper copies of all her certificates: Birth, marriage, divorce, graduation, etc. She dropped them aside and pulled the next box down. This one was full of all the extra in's and out's to build the Frankenstein she had in mind. She drug the box along the floor with her and back into the living room.

At the coffee table again, she began pulling out the pieces she would need. Her mind worked faster than her eyes did. She jury-rigged an old battery to the newer laptop, then performed a loop back through a harddrive full of personal notes on cases to trick the computer into thinking it had an internal memory card. It was unstable but she wouldn't have to be on it long.

The harddrive was basically lost to her. It was locked, each folder was locked and the individual files with the locked folders were both locked and encrypted. Whoever this person was that Leon was giving it to would have to spend a few days working on it, but eventually they would get in. There was no way around it. They would be too smart to open it up online so she couldn't track it and remote fry it.

Her tower on the other hand, he would have to access online. It would be on a secure network but the fact that at most, Leon had gotten only ten hours away, she could safely assume he was still relatively near by. Besides, it was her tower, her programs. If anyone could pick up its trail, it was her.

Hunnigan had only the basic search program on her laptop, none of the results but using it, she could perform both the same search for her next targets and the search for her information. Her mind raced to get both searches going as quickly as possible.

A few hours later, she got her first hit. Devin Reece. He was flying into D.C. for a meeting in two days. He was to be in D.C for just those two days then he would be returning to the UK where he was living. The opportunity was too good, she could not set up the interception with Reece any other way. Her instincts told her to strike these men when they were on her turf and on top of that, she wanted to move quickly. She feared that if she took too long between strikes, the word would spread between members of The Family and they would go into hiding or put a bounty on her head before she got all of their names.

Her mind suddenly jumped.

"The codes, of course. What am I doing?!" She went to the cloud program that she had set up for her backup plan. It was an online storage space, a secure site. She entered the code that was set up for a mercenary in South America, accessing his list. It blocked her because she, of course, was not dead. Hunnigan smiled as she entered the bypass code. The cloud opened up for her. Whoever this hacker was, they moved slowly. They hadn't even found the data base online yet. Everything was there.

Digging through the box, she pulled out another harddrive and began downloading all the file copies that were set up for the mercs in her back up plan. The information was spotty, basic at best. They gave the names of the men she'd found so far, their countries of origins, their business practices and their personal information. Nothing denoting were each one currently was, but it was going to just her search up to as close to were it had been before Leon stole her research as possible.

While those files downloaded, she looked back to the Reece result. He had been linked to The Family through Simmons' father. Simmons senior and Reece's father had been in business together for years until they public split the company in the late eighty's. It was of course a scam, just a way to make double the money and cash in double the tax breaks. After Reece's father had a heart-attack in ninety-one, Reece had taken over. He was now running twice the empire his father had and recently, looked into taking over Simmons senior's side of the business.

She looked into his itinerary for the meetings. They were all in very public places. None of them made very good places for attack. But he would be relatively alone in his hotel room for a few hours in the middle of the afternoon between meetings. That was her in. He was booked in the penthouse, the floor above him was also booked to help with his privacy. Two floor above, however, was open.

"Greetings from the Three Leaf Hotel in D.C., my name is Janus Chaplin how can I help you?"

"Hello Ms. Chaplin. I would like to book a room for the twenty fifth through the thirtieth."

"Wonderful. What kind of room are you interested in?"

"I am on your site actually and I see that the penthouse on the twenty-fourth floor is open, is that correct?"

"Yes ma'am. It is available for the time you are requesting."

"Great, I'll take it."

"Fantastic. I will just need your name, your card number and your driver's license number."

Hunnigan pulled up a new window and a list of names popped up.

"Samantha Harris. My card number is 4938-3243-3428 and my driver's is D882985-5C"

"Hold just one moment while we authorize it." The woman put Hunnigan on hold and a notification popped up. It was one of about forty alias she had set aside. She keyed in the authorization code and the woman came back online.

"Well Ms. Harris, you are booked. Are their any requests that you'd life for your room?"

"Just that I'm not disturbed while I am there. I am going to be in town for a major business meeting and I don't want anyone bothering me."

"Of course, I will make sure that no staff upset you, Ms. Harris."

"See you in a few days."

"Absolutely. Have a good evening."

Hunnigan hung up and set the phone down on the table next to her laptop. The fan kicked on, the quiet whirring was the only noise in the place aside from her own breathing. Her calve was throbbing slightly from the use. She ran her finger along the stitches. The skin was swollen but not alarmingly so. Her mind was already working on how she was going to make this work. Her fingers got to work booking a flight and taxi rides under the same name.

Next she crawled into her bedroom and packed a small bag. In it, she put a work suit, her black pants, a long-sleeve black shirt, the tablets of _Erinyes _and her phone charger. Hunnigan next found the shell of an old laptop and built it up, creating a metal holder for her needles. The holster was tossed in the bag but the needles would have to be concealed to make it through security.

She climbed into bed and laid back. Her flight was at four in the morning, the next day. It was a tight squeeze but she decided to get in a few more hours of sleep then pick up the last few items she would need before catching her red-eye. Her eyes bore holes in the ceiling as her mind worked.


	7. Chapter 7

It was two o' clock in the afternoon when Hunnigan opened the door to her penthouse. There was a gift basket on the bed, a handwritten note tied to the front that thanked her for her business and informed her that her fridge was stalked with top of the line wines and waters. The woman at the desk had also peddled invitations for her and a friend to the hotel's premier spa but that was not of any interest to Hunnigan. She just wanted to get into her room and get her leg up. The swelling away returning since her flight.  
Ankle to thigh, her leg was wrapped in an ace-bandage, cold compresses on either side of her calf. Thankfully, her dress pants were wide-cut, hiding the obvious difference in sizes between her legs.  
She took a seat in on chair by the window, setting the bag on the opposite chair and propping her left foot on it. She could nearly feel the blood rush back toward her thigh, the pressure off her foot, the sole began to tingle. Hunnigan allowed her head to lean back over the edge of her chair when her phone buzzed from within her pocket. She pulled it out, not moving her head. Bringing the screen up to her eye level, she saw "Kennedy" across the phone. She let out a short sigh and answered the call, putting it on speaker phone.  
"Hunnigan?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Where are you?" His voice was curt, no echo behind it so he was inside somewhere.  
"Where are _you_?" She repeated, lowering herself in her chair a bit.  
"I'm in your living room."  
"How did you get in my house?" She recalled locking the door and setting the alarm.  
"I remembered that little crash course you taught me on home alarm systems back in Bolivia, '09."  
"That had nothing to do with picking a lock."  
"I'll replace your door—Where are you?"  
"What did you do to my door?" He ignored her question.  
"Ingrid, where are you right now." She didn't answer him, he hung quietly on the line for a few moments, then let out a huff. "I knew it. I shoulda put a tail on you. You are insane."  
"Did your guy get what he wanted out of my computer?"  
"More or less, it would help everyone out if you would work with him so we can get these guys quicker."  
"Is that so?" She let out a throaty laugh.  
"Yes, I am doing this for you… as your friend. I can't stand to watch you throw away your life."  
"I'm not throwing it away. In the past week I've gotten more of these scumbags then I did in all the years I've been working behind a desk— Leon, I am the only one that can get this going."  
"You are going to get yourself killed, Ingrid! You aren't thinking straight. You are morning and you are putting yourself in danger. Helena wouldn't have wanted you to do it this way."

"You don't know anything about Helena." Hunnigan shot up in the chair, lifting the phone. The camera had been on the entire time, he had seen nothing but the non-descriptive ceiling of the hotel room. Now facing him on screen, she could see he was pacing her living room, her front door crooked on its hinges. "I promised her they would pay and I am going to make sure they do."  
"What… are you in a hotel?" Her eyes darted over her shoulder, he had seen the bed and the gift bag. She threw her hand over the lens of the camera. "Hunnigan, which hotel are you at?"  
"Forget it Leon, I am doing this." She ended the call then pulled the battery out of her phone. She didn't want to take a chance of him tracing her via GPS. She placed the components of the phone on the table then pulled up her left pant leg. She undid the binds and allowed her leg some air. The flesh felt cold to the touch. The wound seemed to be healing somewhat, but the entire back of the leg was bruised, a nasty yellow-purple mess. The compresses dropped the ground. She picked them up and placed them away in the small freezer, yanking out a bottle of wine and placing it on the counter next to a glass flute. She poured herself a single serving and sipped on it, taking a few more painkillers.  
A few hours ticked by, Hunnigan watched from the window, for Reece's car to arrive. When it did, she got to work. He was setting up for the night. His next meeting wouldn't be until tomorrow morning at nine. She strapped the holster around her thigh, placing the ten needles in. She also pulled on a holster around her shoulders and across her waist.  
Her plan was to repel out her window down to his balcony. The holster would help her carry the extra tools she needed. Along her right breast, three grenades laid. She had picked them up from a contact in the area after she arrived. They were all flash bangs. Should his bodyguards wonder in while she was talking to him, she would use them to distract them. It would, of course be a last ditch effort. It was her intention to get in, do what she wanted, then get out undetected. Over her heart, a small camera was mounted. It was recording wirelessly to a laptop set up in her room. The feed was being both recorded and broadcasted live to the Department of Defense.  
She slipped in a pair of contacts, tinting her eyes blue, and pinned a wig to her head, as well as a pull over, black hood. She left just a peek of platinum blond hair sticking out here and there. In case she was spotted, she wanted to provide a memorable though false description. Hunnigan had wrapped her chest and hips in extra ace bandages as well as purchased a binder from an alternative clothing store. It slimmed her curves down to almost nothing, giving her a more androgynous shape.  
She wrapped her lag back up, tighter than before and injected local anesthesia to it near the wound.  
Standing in front of the open window, she wrapped the rope tightly around her balcony. A knife around her ankle in a small holster would have to be used later to cut it free. Double checking her knots and the feed itself, she went over to the bed. She pulled back the covers, then tore open the bag. She ripped open the bags of food, dumping them into the toilet and flushing away the contents. She laid the wrappers across the counter, tossed her clothes on a chair over her bag and turned the shower on in the bathroom as well as the TV in the sitting area.  
She took one last glance around the room, making sure everything was just right. Then she walked to the balcony and heaved one leg over. Perching slightly, she looked down. It would be a long fall. She watched the balcony below. It would be her resting place.  
Hunnigan lowered her other leg over and stood on the other side of the balcony. She looped the rope through a grip on her chest holster and leaned back. Then stepped off the balcony, pushing herself away. She swung back and forth, her heart stuttering in her chest. Her arms began to shake instantly. Her hands were gloved but it felt as though the material of the glove wasn't giving her the advantage she had hoped for.  
One way or another, she made it to the balcony below her. Her legs nearly missed the edge, but caught it just before her arms gave out. She wrapped herself around the cool metal and took a few deep breaths. If her left leg was not injured, it would have made this trick a lot easier. She allowed herself to rest just for a few moments. Below her, there was no lights on in the man's suit. Hunnigan took a deep breath and kicked off again. She descended quicker to his balcony, losing her grip once and almost collapsing to the balcony floor.  
She stood outside his window and undid the clasp tying her to the rope. Hunnigan gave the window a gently push and found it locked. From a pocket just below the lens of the camera, she pulled a glass cutter. A small blade on one end, a suction cup on the other. She stuck the cup to the glass and rotated the blade around in a circle. One pane of glass came free. She pulled it from the cup and went to work on the second pane of the double paned glass.  
Her hand slipped in and found the lock on the window. It was identical to her own window back in her suite. The window pushed open easily and the dark suite beckoned her. She stepped in quietly, moving over to the bed. The man was laid in it, curled to his side. She moved over to the door way, looking into the sitting area. Two men were in there playing cards. She pulled two needles, one by one, making sure to coat their tips well. Hunnigan pulled back her arm and let the first needle fly. It struck the bigger of the two men in his back, just beside her armpit. His left arm went instantly numb. He let out a gasp of surprise and tried to reach for his gun, but his arm suddenly wasn't working anymore. His partner stood and grasped the first man's arm. Hunnigan sent the second needle across the room. It stuck the second man in the gut. She yanked it out quickly. Grabbing a third one quickly, she stepped forward and threw it, this time catching him in the shoulder. His right arm went limp, both men turned to her shouting at her. She grabbed the door she was standing beside and closed it quickly. She turned the lock then ran around to the far side of the fridge unit. Throwing her weight into it, she moved the unit in behind the door.  
Reece had woken and was reaching over to the lamp beside the bed. Hunnigan launched at him, pulling the duvet from the bed up and over his head as her eyes saw the small pistol that his hand was wrapping around. He grabbed it but was blind under the cover. He let off one round. The bullet flew towards the ceiling and struck a light fixture. Hunnigan dropped low and circled around beside the other side of the bed. She grabbed the lamp that was there and dropped it on him. He groaned loudly.  
Hunnigan yanked the covers off him and saw the gun still in his hand. She pulled a fresh needle from the holster and jammed it into his forearm. His grip on the gun went limp, he was muttering.  
She took a second needle and drove it into the other forearm. He used his legs to push himself farther from her. She circled around the bed once more and turned on the bedside lamp.  
"Reece, you are a member of The Family, are you now?" She pitched her voice lower than what was comfortable to her. The audio on her camera was on.  
"What did you do to my arms?"  
"It is temporary and nothing compared to what you have done, now I repeat: You are a member of The Family, are you not?" Outside, the banging against the door were becoming less frantic. The _Erinyes_ was working quickly. She had to get the answers she wanted out of him before he was drooling on himself.  
"I don't know what you are talking about." She noticed something around his neck. A glint of light. She lifted it from his chest. It was the crest, Simmon's family crest. The crest of The Family. She pulled the knife from her ankle and carved it into the wall behind him quickly then held the knife to his throat.  
"I will kill you if you do not answer my questions." She dug the tip of the knife into the underside of his jaw. Black liquid formed little drops under it.  
"Fuck you."  
"Invalid response." She pulled the tip of the blade across his throat, leaving a wound. It was not deep enough to cut anything major, but enough to get him panicked. The front of his shirt was ruined.  
"Yes! Yes—and you are fucked for knowing that."  
"You are a member of The Family?"  
"I am the new head of The Family you dumb fuck!" She placed the knife at his throat again. Outside, she heard more voices. Some of the other guards must've heard what was happening. They began to throw themselves at the door. Reece wore a limp smile, his eyes were rolling about in his head as the toxin was taking over. He wasn't feeling the pain of the wound on his neck anymore.  
"Your people are going to pay for what they have done." She slid the knife back into its holster and pulled the last needle as the door crashed open behind her. Hunnigan pulled her arm back, turning her body into the attack, she drove the needle through his throat, the tip protruding out the other side of his neck. He gagged a little and someone opened fire on her. A bullet caught her in the shoulder blade. She cried out and dropped to the ground.  
Moving along the floor, she rolled under the bed. The first guard got over the fridge and rushed her. She pulled the grenade from her vest and yanked the pin out with her teeth. He rounded the edge of the bed, she kicked out her foot barely connecting with the man's arm. The gun fired, a bullet striking the ground beside her. She threw the grenade behind him and at the feet of the next two men to enter the room. She covered her eyes with her forearm as light burst into existence.  
Instantly, the carpet caught fire. Heat built up in the room, smoke began to choke the men. She stayed low, crawling as she had in her house the previous day. Making her way to the balcony, she closed the window behind her. The rope was still hanging from the balcony two stories above. She used it to pull herself up.  
Upwards she moved, anxiety propelling her much faster than she thought she would go. Upwards and upwards until she heard glass shatter below her. Someone was firing out the windows. A man shattered the glass and jumped out, aiming upwards at her. She pulled the second flash bang from her holster and dropped it on him. Light erupted once more, the night sky bright as day for a moment. He groaned and fired blindly at her. She tried to move faster when she felt herself swaying. She looked up and someone was on her balcony, sawing away at the rope's anchor point.  
Her mind went blank for a moment, her heart stopped. Everything went nearly still. If the world had ever been in slow motion, she was sure that this was it. The man sawed at the rope, his arm moving back and forth comically slow. She wished for a gun at that moment. She could fire at him, then continue to climb for safety. Below her, the man was recovering from the blinding light and would be taking aim at her soon.  
In that moment, Ingrid Hunnigan embraced her death. She was either going to be shot by the man below her or drop to her death when the man above her got through the rope. Cold fear washed over her and she took a deep breath. Death was just inches away now, she had done everything she could.  
"I'm sorry, Helena." She whimpered. The rope went taught for a moment then lack in her grip. Gravity ceased to exist then she plummeted downward.  
Two hands shots out from nowhere, grabbing at the strap of her holster vest. She swung backwards awkwardly, her side slapping against the metal of a balcony railing. She looked to the hands and then up to the face. Even In the darkness, she knew that face.  
"I gotcha." Leon grunted. "You are an idiot, but I've gotcha." He groaned as he pulled her up and over the edge. She fell to the ground near him. He hoisted her up and on to her feet. "Oh no, no resting. Have you got a gun?"  
"No." She said between gulps of air. Her hand instantly went to the small wire from the battery pack to the camera body, she hooked her finger under it and pulled it free, disconnecting it. Heat surged through her body with a new found will to survive.  
"Of course not." He lead the way, making his way to the suite door, he motioned for her to stick close. They went to the stairwell and started down. She limped behind him, her leg in pain as well as her shoulder blade.  
They made it down to the ground floor but he kept going. Through the three floors of underground parking, finally the exited as they heard men above them shouting.  
"How'd you find me?"  
"You aren't as sneaky as you think you are." He lead her this way and that but she was falling behind. Leon stopped for a moment, looking back at her before he grabbed her arm and pulled it across his shoulders, towing her alongside him. "Keep up."  
They turned a corner and found two men canvassing the area. One spotted Leon and started towards him.  
"Alright buddy," One of them said. "Just let us take your friend here. This doesn't concern you."  
"Sorry." Leon chimed. "But my friend is already has a date for the evening." His hand snaked down Hunnigan's chest and pulled the final flash bang from the holster, pulled the pin and rolled it to their feet. Both men jumped back but the light stunned them before they could fire on Leon and Hunnigan.  
Leon moved quickly, nearly dragging Hunnigan to a rental car. He pushed her into the passenger seat then crawled across her to the driver's seat. He turned the car over and threw it into drive. The tires squealed as they followed the markings around the parking garage. They climbed in elevation and eventually made it out of the garage all together as fire trucks pulled in.


End file.
